


fell, didn't ya?

by shewhoisntnamed44



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I hate me, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst, pynch - Freeform, so self indulgent, the gym au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19117501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoisntnamed44/pseuds/shewhoisntnamed44
Summary: "Thanks," Adam says as Ronan parks his car outside Adam's apartment, "you didn't have to do this.""Well I kinda did.""Why?""You were looking at me when you fell," and Adam wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole."How do you know that?" Adam asks, all false bravado."Because I was looking back," and Ronan's staring straight ahead, all sharp nose and defined jaw and Adam wants to touch his hand."Oh," is all Adam has to say.#The gym au where Adam has a crush on the hot guy who insists on working out near him.





	fell, didn't ya?

It's painful, really- Adam's crush. He tries to ignore it but when an unfairly attractive man with a back tattoo is lying on a bench lifting almost 22 kilos directly in front of you, you try looking away.  
It shouldn't be allowed, Adam thinks. It should be a fucking sin having to work out while your unrequited crush does too.

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to look away.

There's a list he keeps in his head, to convince himself he's not wasted shit load of money on this gym membership. It goes like this-  
\- the ache in his muscles as he feels himself getting stronger, as he feels himself settle into his skin and sometimes likes the way he looks in the mirror  
\- the veins running through the biceps of Tattoo Guy  
\- the blankness in his mind when he's on the treadmill or lifting weights, how it feels at that moment as if he has nothing to care for expect this  
\- the fucking  _biceps_

It's a few days later and Tattoo Guy is currently running next to him. It's not entirely a surprise that he falls.  
He's going too fast and he somehow looses his grip on the bars and then it's like someone's pulling his leg backwards and his face is against the ground. For a second, for the smallest second it's like Adam's back in his childhood home and it fucking guts him.  
Even years after getting out, after going to Harvard and being employed at one of the best law firms in Boston and hours and hours of therapy, it hits him unexpectedly.

"Holy fuck are you okay?" and he feels someone touch his shoulder and he flinches so hard it's gone immediately.  
He gets up and instinctively measures his injuries. He can feel the throbbing in his cheek from where his face got dragged across the machine, the pain in his ankle when he tries to stand on it. He knows his whole body's going to ache tomorrow.  
"I'm fine," he says and looks up to see Tattoo Guy, brow furrowed. Thankfully the gym was almost empty except for five other people who are all currently looking at him with concern.  
"There's a bruise on your cheek," Tattoo Guy says.  
"Yeah I know, it's _my_ cheek," he knows why he's getting angry and mean but this is just fucking embarrassing.

"I think you should get it checked out," a woman with black hair and a tiny mole on her cheek tells him.  
"I said I'm fine," and he knows he's being an asshole as the woman raises her hand in surrender and gets back to her workout.  
It seems to break a spell and one by one everyone leaves him alone as he takes a sip of his water. Everyone except Tattoo Guy, whose eyes he can't meet.  
He tries to put more pressure on his ankle and grinds his teeth as pain rips through it. It's not painful enough to be broken, Adam knows.  
Deep breath, in, out, he's had worse than this.

"I'll give you a ride home."  
"What?"  
"Well you clearly can't fucking walk, let alone drive."  
"Don't worry about it, thanks," he says. At any other time getting a lift from someone you like would've been great, an early Christmas present. But Adam's hurt and he knows he's being a defensive asshole about this because old habits die hard.  
He tries to walk over to the corner where his bag is and damn his ankle to the worst place in hell.  
He hears a scoff behind him and there's a brief contact of skin against skin as Tattoo Guy brushes past him and grabs Adam's bag and another one which must be his.  
"Come on," he says and Adam knows he's not getting his bag back. He would laugh if his cheek wasn't throbbing.  
He sighs and runs through his options. He could call Blue but she would take atleast forty minutes to come cos of traffic and he really doesn't want to be here any longer.  
"Okay," he gives up.

Walking is still extremely hard and after about two more steps he feels fingers wrap around his forearm with a muttered _Jesus, are you always this stubborn?_ Adam's surprised to find himself smiling.

He leans against him and they somehow make it to the elevator which takes them to the parking lot.  
"I don't even know your name," he says.  
"Ronan."  
"Adam."  
"How's the ankle?"  
"It hurts," he admits.  
"I've never seen someone fucking _slide_ off a treadmill," he hears Ronan laugh and it almost makes the humiliation worth it.  
"There's a first for everything."

They reach the car, it's a black BMW, _of course_ it's a BMW, with that tattoo and the branded gymwear.  
Adam hesitates a moment before he gets in the car as Ronan throws their bags in the back seat.  
Adam looks at his phone camera and the damage isn't that bad. The scraped skin on his cheek is bleeding slightly. Adam knows that the swelling makes everything look worse than it is, that in a few days it'll clot over. Nothing a medical cream won't fix.  
  
"I'm sorry to waste your time," Adam cringes as his own voice fills the car.  
"Really, you can just leave me here, I'll call a taxi," he knows he should've thought of this sooner. _Idiot_ , he thinks.  
"Where do you live?" Ronan asks him bluntly, blue eyes looking straight at him. Adam opens the door to get out but Ronan's hand on his stops him.  
"Jesus, I'm not kicking you out. Just tell me where you live." Adam does.  
"That's not even far. Won't waste my time, so shut up about that."  
Ronan starts the car.

Ronan turns on the radio, music loud enough for the rest of the car ride to pass in silence expect for the occasional directions Adam provides.  
They're there in fifteen minutes.

"Thanks," Adam says as Ronan parks his car outside Adam's apartment, "you didn't have to do this."  
"Well I kinda did."  
"Why?"  
"You were looking at me when you fell," and Adam wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.  
"How do you know that?" Adam asks, all false bravado.  
"Because I was looking back," and Ronan's staring straight ahead, all sharp nose and defined jaw and Adam wants to touch his hand.  
"Oh," is all Adam has to say.

#

Ronan ends up following him upstairs. He ends up cleaning up Adam's cheek almost expertly. He doesn't listen to Adam's protest when he says he's fine and can _bandage his own leg damnit_. He's kind of an asshole about it, which Adam is ashamed to find out he likes. A lot.

He ends up sitting on the couch next to Adam eating takeout with him for dinner. They end up talking throughout the night. He wakes up with Ronan's fingers in his and a head full of information about Ronan Lynch, like how he's a photographer and has his own gallery. How they grew up mere miles from each other without ever realising it. The way Ronan's voice softens as the night passes.

"If I'd known that falling off a treadmill was the way to your heart I would've done that sooner," he says when Ronan oh so casually reaches for his hand a few days later, when they're on the same couch watching a movie. He doesn't protest when Ronan lays his head on his shoulder.

Adam doesn't protest when Ronan kisses him the day after that, carefully avoiding the wound on his cheek.  
He doesn't protest when Ronan's hands are in his hair. He doesn't protest when Ronan bites his lower lip and something in him seems to break as he presses his hands against Adam's ribs.  
He doesn't protest because for the first time in his life he doesn't mind being weak.

**Author's Note:**

> this totally wasn't inspired by me going to the gym and noticing biceps nope


End file.
